Author's note- I am so sorry people. Really, I am. I meant to update sooner, but I've just been so busy. I'm physically and mentally exhausted. Thank heavens school is over. Yay! My Quincenera is in 1 week! . Anyway, to my reviewers:

Samyo- Sorry it has taken me so long. As I've said many times before, I've been really busy. I mean, it's always either JROTC, school, school projects, friends, friends' problems, family, family problems, or my Quince; so there's always going on. I'm hoping now that school is over, that I won't have to deal with half of that, meaning I hope to be able to update more often. But that still doesn't count my Quince or even summer school so…we'll just see.

Wind-Sorceress-Pluto- That's no fair, don't give me an ultimatum. I'll update when I can, which is hopefully soon.

WL496 and GS623- Sorry for the confusion as to whether Tom was a werewolf or a vampire. The whole blood thing was supposed to express a bestial/carnal hunger thing. And thank you, I will keep up the good work, hopefully.

Silent Bob 546- Yes…poor Sawyer. Too bad. Thank you, and yes, I hope to keep it up.

Seph2k2- Thank you. I appreciate the compliment very much. As far as your story, number one, it's too much action and not enough storyline. Most of your chapters are just constant fighting, with no true content but the fighting. Yes, the chapters are good and yes, you are very good at describing action sequences in your story, but lessen up on the fighting and add a little something else to it. That's all I can tell you. I haven't had time to read it lately, but I'll get to it as soon as I can.

SerpentSlaveChik- Thank you very much, and here's the update. Oh, and thanks for the CD, it's awesome! .

Sawyer Fan- Thank you. On the subject of him being "cured", I'm still contemplating that. To be cured? Or not to be cured? That is the question…

Under My Skin
By: Final Spirit

Why does it feel like night today?
Something in here's not right today.
Why am I so uptight today?
Paranoia's all I got left.

I don't know what stressed me first,
Or how the pressure was spread.
But I know just what it feels like,
To have a voice in the back of my head.

Like a face that I hold inside.
A face that awakes when I close my eyes.
A face that watches every time I lie.
A face laughs every time I fall.
And watches everything.

So I know that when it's time to sink or swim,
The face inside is hearing me,
Right underneath my skin.

Linkin Park- Papercut (Hybrid Theory)

Chapter 2- Missing

Again, a roar.

Again, darkness.

Again he ran endlessly, chased by an unknown fear.

It was the same dream, well, nightmare, as the last time. He was in the woods running, running away from the beast. Same monstrosity, same golden eyes that seemed to burn even deeper into his soul.

Like before, he tripped, suspended in midair until he collided with the damp earth. This time though, instead of opening his eyes to reality, he opened them to welcome the lunging beast.

He closed his eyes, feeling the force slam into him. Gripping the ground in pain, he refused to open his eyes. Hot, rancid breath washed over his face, filling his nostrils with the disgusting stench. Overwhelmed, he opened his eyes only to see the beast on top of him. He stared into the beast's eyes, only to see them flash green for what seemed to be faster than a millisecond.

Confusion washed over his face, before suddenly a wave of familiar pain washed over him. He felt his back arch, trying to relieve the excruciating torture.

Everything faded, but the pain continued for the endless eternity.

Dr. Jekyll, surrounded by the remaining League, pulled the thermometer out of Tom Sawyer's mouth examining it. Everyone gathered around him, anxiously.

"Well, what's wrong with 'em?" questing Skinner, "Is he al'right?"

Looking at the thermometer, he shook his head, "His temperature's up to 104°, so he's running a high fever. I don't know what's happening to him, so I can't say whether or not he'll recover."

Walking over to a cabinet, he pulled out a syringe and an alcohol pad. Striding back over to Sawyer, he stroked the alcohol pad over a vein in his arm and the stuck the needle in, pulling out a small amount of blood. Pulling the capsule filled with blood out of the syringe, he turned to Nina. "If you could please examine this for any foreign compounds, it would help to make a diagnosis."

"I'll get right on it," she answered, quickly pacing out of the room.

Turning around, Jekyll prepared to address the others. Clearing his throat, he looked at their solemn expressions. They needed hope, but he had none to give them. "All we can do now is wait. We'll have to rely on his body's natural defenses to deal with this. If all goes well, he should be able to break the fever." He stopped for a second, unable to continue. This, believe it or not, was hard for him as well as everyone else. Sawyer was his friend too, and seeing him like this and the fact that he could do nothing for him hurt him. It made him feel helpless.

"Is there anything we can do?" Nemo questioned, aware of Dr. Jekyll's feelings on the matter.

"Yes," he responded, gathering himself, "It would be better if we were docked, just in case he needs emergency medical attention. I may be a doctor, but a hospital would be better in an event like that."

"Very well," Nemo said as he left to direct them towards shore.

"Wha' can I do?" Skinner spat anxiously. He was worried for the boy, and wanted to help somehow.

"If you could stay with him, that would help. He may not be able to see you, but he'll know you're there, and he needs all the moral support he can get."

Hearing this, Skinner walked over to the chair beside the bed, and sat down. He wrung his hands together, unsure of what to do. All that could be done now, was to wait.

Mixing a couple of chemicals together, Mina stared at nothing. Regaining her train of thought, she quickly added a few more chemicals to the mix. Her mind raced with worrying thoughts about Agent Sawyer. Her previous encounter with him made her confused. What was wrong with him? What was happening to him? Better yet, what was he becoming? All these questions raced through her head at once.

She felt a tear fall down her cheek, and raised her hand to wipe it. They'd already lost Quartermain, and now Agent Sawyer might be next. Well, she'd be damned if she would let that happen.

Popping the cap off the blood sample, she prepared to pour it into the mixture. That's when it hit her; a pungent and foul smell. She nearly dropped the sample it was so powerful. Regaining herself, she brought the sample closer to smell it. It was his blood giving off the smell. Now she something really was wrong. She'd seen sickness before, but never something that effected blood like that.

Holding her nose, she poured the sample into the mixture, awaiting a reaction. After none came, she looked at the flask puzzled. Turning around, she checked her medical journal, confirming that she had mixed in the right chemicals.

Pain washed over her back as shards of glass were fired into her and all around her. Ignoring the dulling pain she turned around, only to see the boiling mixture splattered all over the room. Kneeling onto the floor, she observed what was left of the mixture. It slowly ceased to boil as it turned a blackish color, checking her journal, she interpreted the reaction. That's when realization hit her.

Running out of the room, her mind raced. His blood was unstable, and his whole cellular structure was falling apart. If they didn't find away to help him, he would die.

Rounding the corner, she saw several men laying on the floor. Running over and checking them, she found that they were alive, but unconscious. She heard a groan come from down the hall, and saw the infirmary door ajar. Rushing over she ran into the room, surveying the scene. Dr. Jekyll laid on the floor unconscious while Skinner stirred slightly. Looking over to the bed, a sickening feeling filled the pit of her stomach. The bed was empty.

Opening his eyes, darkness blurred his vision. After a few moment, objects began to take shape, until he could see his surroundings almost perfectly. Slowly sitting up, he began to look at his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was the stench.

"God, it smells like something died in here," he said to himself. Looking around, it seemed as if he was in a dungeon. When he looked down, he realized where the smell was coming from, the floor. It was stained with dry blood and a rotting corpse laid in the far corner. He tried to look into the other cells, but it was way too dark to see anything. He called out, hoping that somebody would hear him, but instead he heard growling come fromthe cell next to his. Edging closer, he looked into the cell.

In a flash, a ball of fur leapt at the cage wall. Tom was just able to jump back into time to avoid the razor sharp claws from tearing him apart. A large wolf-like creature tore at the cage, unable to break through the thick iron bars.

Glancing around, he began to slowly panic. "Where the hell am I! What the hell is going on!" he yelled, hoping for some response. He heard a door open in the distance and footsteps approach his cage. What seemed to be a young girl wrapped in a cloak rushed over the cage door.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, curious for some answers.

"Shhh, quiet down," she whispered as she fumbled with the keys, "I'm here to get you out."